AFTER MY JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL PROM

During my junior year in high school, I had the opportunity to join a 
club called the International Band and Folk Dancers. The members of 
this group were all flaky. I took it up because of loneliness, seeking 
female companionship. My partner, which I chose, was the best looking 
girl there, good looking, but a little bit messed up in the head.

Candice (I called her Candy) was a sophomore at Denver Senior High. She 
stood about five foot two, a trifle short by comparison to most gals 
her age, but what she lost in height she made up for in personal 
endowments. Candy had jet black hair shoulder length worn with as light 
outward sweeping curl. Her hair shone, the way you would expect a 
Veronica or Sophia's hair would shine -not a fine texture, but thick 
hair with weight to it.

Framed in that hair was a cherubic face with high prominent cheek bones 
permanently blushed. Ample out-turned lips made sure you were aware 
that she was a mature young woman and not a short sophomore girl. Her 
eyes had a deep fathomless quality behind the black pupils. A guy could 
lose himself trying to find her soul beneath those eyes.

As the reader is aware off by now, you note that I prefer my women on 
the slightly thinner side. What possessed me to attach myself to Candy? 
Her stature and the unmatched, if somewhat dumpy clothing she wore, 
implied the type of body that was molded into the clothing.  You know, 
the type that looks absolutely voluptuous dressed, but expands to a 
size 48 tub of lard upon removal of the tight panty-hose and girdle.     
Candy was anything but that. What you saw clothed was the same shape 
undressed. There were no elastic supports on this lady; she didn't need 
them and they surely would have been  a waste of time.

Candice was a member of the Church of Scientology – an organization, 
that if I understand everything Candice told me, believes the only form 
of government is anarchy.

They have an aggressive recruiting program. saying they can take care 
of the worlds problems through mind control and modification; and that 
it would only cost $625 for the first class. Sounded like mind control 
to me, alright.

My friend, Rick, and I tried to talk her out of the organization, but 
our efforts never really worked until five years later when she saw the 
light of our reasoning.

Pathetic as her membership in this organization was, it did have some 
beneficial spin-offs for me.

For one, Candice had moved away from her legal guardians because the 
church said so. She lived in a house by herself.

Two; Scientology preaches free love. This affected her way of looking 
at life and her sexual relationships; though she was afraid(as any 
normal teenage girl growing up would be), she didn't have parental 
guidance and because of the church's meddling with her mind she didn't 
have the normal constraints of society. Her guardians were flakier than 
her.

My most enduring memory of Candy is of our Junior Prom night.  Though 
Candice was a year younger than me, I flouted tradition and asked her 
to be my date at the prom.

I showed up at her house with a corsage. She wore the most gorgeous red 
velvet dress, adding a certain flair of sensuousness to the air. I wore 
the obligatory black tuxedo. There is not much to say of the actual 
prom, other than ignoring girls in my class with an outsider, getting 
our picture taken, and some very close dancing.

After the prom, we when to the IHOP near the Civic Center for breakfast 
with her guardians. Candice, though normally avoiding contact with her 
guardians, had invited them to meet me and I knew my meeting and making 
a good impression was very important to Candice.  She wanted to show 
and prove to them that she wasn't a slut, as they seemed to impress 
upon her, but just a normal teenage girl trying to grow up.

They were very direct in their questioning and asked if I'd been 
fucking their daughter and if I had enjoyed it. Upon my negative nod, 
her step-father told me bluntly that I ought to get some, saying he 
ought to know, he's had her many times. Even his new wife was no moral 
help.  She's lecherously eyeing my crotch.

I tried my best to maintain my composure, but they soon had me to a 
quivering mass of jelly, embarrassed and fidgeting to get out of there. 
We finally said our good-byes, without the convictions behind them; 
even declining a much needed ride north on a cold and frigid night. 
Instead, we availed ourselves of a Farwest cab.

The ride to her place is quiet; uneventful. She is simmering I feel. I 
can understand why. She has been embarrassed and made to feel worse 
than a two-bit whore in front of a date she has just presented to 
uphold her respectability. I don't know the whole story; just what she 
has been through in her home life, but I think her running away and 
becoming hooked up with the scientologists is somehow related to the 
treatment she has gotten at home. She has tried to mend fences and as I 
was about to find out, she was going to tear those fences down forever, 
to totally alienate herself from her family. I could feel to raw 
hatred.

I also took note that I was beginning to assume some of this heat 
myself. I was present at this despicable scene. However, I never 
expected that I would be her instrument of revenge, albeit, an unknown 
and un-presented instrument. We held hands in the cab, but I was 
holding a cold lifeless hand - Candice' energies were directed 
elsewhere; she was debating some fundamental course of action; and I 
was available.

Five dollars and thirty-five cents later we pulled up the darkened 
street on upper View Ridge, pulling to the curb in front of her house.  
Candice opens her side before I can get out and huffs off towards the 
steep, unpainted wooden steps up to the front porch.

"Do you want me to wait for you?", asks the hack.

"No, I don't suppose so. I can catch the bus home from here." And the 
cabby drives off with a knowing conspiratorial smile on his face.  No 
wonder no one likes cabbies.

I rush up beside her fumbling for her keys in her clutch, difficult to 
find anything under the burned out porch light.

I can't think of much to say to her. It has been a spoiled night for 
me. Even more so for her. "I enjoyed myself tonight, Candy. Really, I 
did.", but I don't sound all that convincing to her and she knows it.

She finally locates her keys and clutching them in frustration, turns 
to face me, the rage still there, but softened by glistening eyes, 
ready to let forth a torrent should her guard ever relax so much as a 
hairbreadth.

"I tried so much to be normal, to show them I was good and proper and 
respectable. I've lived with that asshole for so long that I don't know 
what's proper and right anymore.

She pauses to stifle a sniffle with the back of her hand; I don't know 
what to say.

"I tried to get you as mine to be mine, and not what they wanted.  I 
tried to make it a good night for us but I failed. I'm sorry" the lone 
tear in the corner of her eye welling up, about to breach the dike.

"I'm not going to worry about your parents. We tried, but after all, I 
went out with you and you're the one I'm trying to impress, not you're 
parents. I took you to the prom because I like you, and you were 
marvelous. Did you see how many turned their heads to see you? Don't 
put yourself down." I grasp her by the shoulders trying to emphasize my 
point, but I see doubt and anger still there. "Is there anything I can 
do before I go home, honey?" I say softly. I regret having to leave her 
in this state, but the last bus of the night will be going by in about 
fifteen minutes and I'll have the rush the six blocks to catch it. I 
don't look forward to a cold, damp and dismal walk home at three in the 
morning.

"Stay with me tonight. Stay and keep me company. I need someone around 
me now; I'm all alone in the world now - don't have anybody to call 
on."

I'd never stayed out all night; at least not to the point, that after a 
night of carousing with the guys, I wouldn't be back in my own bed at 
home by five or six in the morning. To stay with a woman all night, 
with the implications that you just can't get up at six and sneak 
home(after all, that wouldn't be proper); but must stay through the 
next morning, and probably the better part of the next afternoon as 
well -well I don't know. I wanted to, but my responsibilities to home 
said this was a no-no; jumping into the frying pan on the other burner 
when they haven't even lit the fire under you yet. You know what they 
say about fools would tread where they shouldn't. Well I certainly 
wasn't an angel.

Problem was, Candy was vulnerable. Vulnerable to herself (the altruism 
in me) and vulnerable to me (the devil may care in me). I let myself be 
led in, hook, line and sinker and onto the living room sofa.

Candy wasn't rich and the surroundings reflected the frugalness of her 
existence. Furnished early college-freshman style with shelves made of 
painted cinder blocks and pine planks; K-mart special stereo and lots 
of bean bag chairs scattered around the dimly lit room. The sofa I was 
sitting on had seen many a year in other living rooms before ending up 
here. But the place was clean I could see; something to be proud of 
given the circumstances. I knew Candy was a proud woman.

It was with a surprise that I recognized the zip-lock, rolled baggie 
with shredded wheat inside for what it was, and for the bottle of not 
quite cold Cold Duck sparkling wine Candy brought out from the kitchen, 
shutting off the lights behind her.

She busies herself rolling a deft pinwheel joint while I watch in 
fascination; so, I get up to play some music on the stereo. Some 
records we have in common, something light and befitting this mood, I 
put on some Mystic Moods and join her in an oversized bean bag chair 
and take the offered joint, inhaling deeply and holding as I feel the 
thick acrid smoke clear from my lungs into my bloodstream.

I am not a frequent user of weed. On the few occasions I've partaken 
(all since moving to here), I've noticed that it strikes me very fast 
and potently. So fast and effectively that I avoid it except under the 
most secure and familiar of circumstances. I have a very thin ego-shell 
and worry about exposing the real me. As they say, knowledge of thine 
enemy is the most potent weapon.

It is perhaps a tribute to Candy that I did accept that night. We had 
never toked together before - I wasn't even aware she did, nor she, I. 
But I felt very comfortable here with her; alone, just the two of us, 
behind a securely locked door and no wild parties to arouse the ire of 
the neighbors. Too, Candy's psyche was an open wound, the ragged edges 
of her needs requiring attention.

I couldn't empathize with her needs unless I dropped my barriers to 
show that I was just as vulnerable. I accepted, took a guzzle of Cold 
Duck and settled back into the bean bag with Candy crisscross over my 
stomach, my drawn up knees supporting her back. I let the beautiful 
sounds of a rainstorm accompanied to the piano recital of Sleepy Shores 
waft over and through my senses. Like I said, I've always enjoyed the 
Mystic Moods orchestra with its mixing of natural occurrences(like 
rain) with mood setting music. The mood was set.

We shared a second joint between us, this one more conventionally 
rolled with a hefty helping of grass. This hog of the tokes, a 
veritable Columbian Cigar was meant to reinforce and amplify for a 
longer period of time the high we got from the pinwheel at the 'snap of 
a switch'. It was heady, cloying smoke that we tunneled into each 
other.

The method of 'tunneling' is an art in the MJ culture. It means to take 
to lit joint backwards into your mouth, while your partner takes the 
other end, and to blow the THC laden smoke forcibly into the lungs of 
your partner. Doing it this way produces less carbonized burn products, 
release of greater amounts of the volatile oils of THC, and more volume 
of smoke in the lungs than your partner can reasonably expect to draw 
under his or her own power. The effect is dynamite. The high produced 
is higher, more sense distorting, and longer lasting than toking three 
to four times the regular way.

I was glad when we finally finished that joint. I wanted to enjoy this 
floating consciousness. My hand holding my glass of wine in Candy's lap 
was frozen and I stared at it for the longest time, trying to make the 
glass move. I didn't want a drink, I just wanted that obstinate glass 
to move. Finally I manage to tilt the glass enough but all I managed 
was slopping half the wine into her lap. I felt the moisture over my 
hand, wet under where her beautiful dress collected a puddle of slowly 
warming vin a' rouge. We both giggled at my feeble attempts as I try to 
slurp the spilled wine from her lap.

"Come on Larry. Let me change out of this dress into clothes you can 
make a mess out of without destroying", Cathy says as she climbs 
unsteadily to her feet and toddles off to the bedroom.

I make myself busy finding some more mood music for the player and plop 
back down into my now comfortable bean bag. It has a well-worn indent 
where my body slides right back into.

Cathy returns dressed in now familiar jeans and cream-colored blouse 
and plops right back into her comfortable niche, facing me, back 
propped against my knees, legs straight out beside me. I run my hand 
lightly up the inside of her legs and back a couple of times, bringing 
my up-turned palm to a rest atop the pubic arch, the back of my hand 
feeling the warmth beneath. Cathy rests her own glass, atop my palm, 
hands steepled  around the stem.

I stare across the arms length interval between us. My head is swirling 
as I try to focus on myself, dressed in faded jeans and creamy-white 
blouse. I feel the heat exuding from my crotch. I feel sensuous, an 
ache between my legs that cries for something, a need, a lacking.

Lifting my hand, I undo one of the buttons to my blouse, reaching under 
to feel the firmness of each breast, nipples hard and painfully 
sensitive. Why ain't I wearing my bra? I undo a few more buttons and 
let the warm evening air circulate around my taut skin, each small 
flurry of breeze sending shivers up the inner thighs. I'm intrigued as 
I study my breast from a distance, one in each palm. They don't exactly 
weigh the same. The one on the left, which is my right, is heavier, but 
the same size, it seems. Candy is doing something between my legs and 
it feels exciting.

Maybe I could tell the difference between titties if I tasted them, so 
I reach forward, titties still in hand and give a 'popsicle-like’ suck, 
taking in each nipple and letting it slide out over my tongue, grasping 
the fore-end of each nipple lightly between my teeth before they wetly 
pop free again. Slightly salty; not bad! Something is definitely going 
on between my legs, I feel it as if I had an extension there, stuck out 
in the cold being slowly pulled up and down. I feel someone's fingers 
wrapped around me, but I have no dick, I have a vagina... that's silly, 
and I reach down to feel my pussy, spreading my legs just so wide to 
accompany my hand. There is nothing there; but I feel the hand going up 
and down.

I undo the button to my jeans, sliding the brass zipper down. With both 
hands, I yank my jeans and panties down to my ankles with one fluid 
pull towards me.  Reaching out a finger, I run it up the lips to emerge 
wet and slick as well-oiled machinery. Absent-mindedly sucking my 
finger dry, I suddenly feel the urge for something to eat. Eat! Isn't 
that what men do to women and vice versa? I wonder what I taste like 
and I bury my head between my pussy voraciously attacking with tongue 
and teeth the soft tender meat there.

"Easy Larry! I'm not a piece of hamburger to chew on. Tenderly and 
slowly.  Please", cries Cathy and I realize where I am all of a sudden 
and taper off my attack.

I reclaim my identity and body as I delightedly feel a moist warm 
cavern descend over my cock, taking me to the base, where lips tightly 
seal and Cathy begins to draw up, her tongue rolling acrobatically over 
my shaft. I groan with pleasure.

Rolling Cathy atop me in one fluid, if awkward, motion, I run my tongue 
around the inside of her pussy taking in the animal smell of musk. I 
pass my tongue rapidly, butterfly style , slowing down now and then to 
feel the texture with my tongue. I can feel her shudders as she 
alternately  tightens and relaxes her thigh muscles slapping against my 
trapped head like a sledgehammer.

Candy's clitoris is an ample piece of dark red flaccid meat, triangular 
in shape, with a tumescent shaft rising along the lower edge; the 
actual love bud; packed with thousands upon thousands of sensitive 
nerve endings. It is about three-quarters to an inch long, enough to 
protrude from the outer labia when those lips are closed.  The sides 
are soft and smooth, like the walls of her pussy lips. No patterns in 
this skin as elsewhere on the body. No one will ever finger-print a 
pussy.

Candy's cock-sucking has progressed to a steady up and down pattern 
with a new twist to it. As she goes down, her lips just barely skimming 
the skin, tongue dancing whirlpools over the head and retreating back 
into her mouth to stay over the pee-hole, she rotates her mouth about 
ninety degrees, only to rotate back in the other direction as she draws 
my cock up with her now tight lips.

Each time her lips close over the head on the up-stroke, she darts the 
pointed tip of her tongue sharply into the pee-hole eliciting a 
pleasurable tingle of sharp pain. The lip-tight seal is complete as she 
clears the head taking and swallowing the lubricating saliva intermixed 
with the first tentative drops of seminal fluid.

Each ever-increasing down stroke brings the head closer to the glottis, 
the underside of my cock-head feeling the texture, every rough taste-
bud coating the surface, contributing a little taste of me to each; 
sweet, sour, bitter, or salty bud tasting cock. I can by God, feel the 
bony ridge of the roof of her mouth covered by smooth mucus membranes.

My face is wet; covered with salty-thick pussy juice. I open my mouth 
as wide as I can planting it atop lips and clitoris both, trying to 
suck as much of her in as possible, vacuuming the juice down over my 
tongue for flavor and down my throat for sustenance. While my lips hold 
her pussy captive, my tongue washes and licks every nook and cranny. I 
suck as hard as I can over the clit, drawing as much blood to the 
surface as possible, heightening her sensations.

Licking both thumb and forefinger of my free hand, I slowly guide one 
each into her anus and vagina; ever so slowly so as not to cause harm 
until her natural lubrication takes over. I can only penetrate a half 
inch of so into her anus, but it is enough to rouse a wide more feral 
beast in her. My thumb is in her vagina to the hilt keeping time to the 
mouth-sucking she is giving me. Her spasms have already tried to pinch 
it free from my hand.

White mucus is forming a ring about the base of my captured thumb. . . 
a waxy dike around her vaginal mouth. . . and I tongue around it to get 
a taste of her inner joy. Tart, almost like alum. So much different 
than the clear pre-nuptial lubricant. I savor it for the fervor of the 
moment. All my senses are playing a part in this.

Cathy is going wild on my manhood now; attempting to swallow me whole, 
if possible. She no longer travels the entire length of my cock, 
instead leaving the furthest down she's gotten in her throat, relaxing 
her lips, her tongue lying flat and quiet. Saliva drips and slides from 
her mouth as she makes small up and down jabbing motions with her head, 
my cock-head bending slightly as it rounds the downward turn in her 
throat at the base of her tongue. I can feel the barrier each time my 
cock softly runs into her glottal muscle, partially open and forced 
more each time she slightly withdraws an eighth inch and forward a 
quarter.

I place my other hand atop her head, reinforcing and adding my own 
desired thrust up with my cock. Finally I feel her throat muscle relax 
and with a vicious upward thrust with my cock and a violent downward 
push of her head, her lips slam and mash into the hairs at the base of 
my dick. Her lips nibble and stretch to the loose skin of my scrotum... 
as if she wants to suck my balls up into her mouth as well.

She tightens her lips and mouth, starting a sideways sweeping motion 
with her flattened tongue. The smooth muscle lining the esophagus has 
started its own milking action, trying to swallow the head of my cock 
protruding through the glottis. I can feel every action from Candy's 
voluntary sucking in her mouth to the heavenly automatic milking in her 
throat. I feel the full feeling spreading like acid up the tube of my 
cock. My dick begins to throb in her mouth, so tightly and irrevocably 
locked onto me.

I pull my thumb free of her hole and jab my tongue into her vagina as 
far as it will go during a relaxation of the spasms; only to be locked 
onto as her vaginal muscles begin their rhythmic contractions around 
the tip of my tongue. I'm barely able to breathe, my nose is squashed 
against her buttocks. I play my fingers in fast motion across her clit 
as first one wave, and then another crest over my tongue, being torn 
out by the roots.

I can't stand it so I begin rapid and violent thrusting motions with my 
hips raising them fast and hard her facet only to have her head, locked 
in place and milking away, bob up and down with my thrust.

"My God. I'm coming! Suck me, baby. Suck me dry, uh!!!", I shudder 
between clenched teeth as a hot and full load of semen explodes free, 
burning the length of the shaft as it spurts upward.  "Take all of me, 
every last fucking drop baby!!!".

With each ecstatic spurt, I feel her tongue draw backward to 
accommodate her drinking reflex, throat muscle doubling the rate of 
milking. One spurt, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 
ten, eleven, twelve electric jolts; and each a complete tube emptying.

Finally the jetting ends and I relax my death's grip in her jet black 
hair allowing my cock-head to slip free of her esophagus. Her tongue is 
slippery and slick with my semen as she begins a gentle milking action, 
the tip of her tongue running up the underside to milk every last drop 
from my relaxed penis and down her throat.

I feel myself going soft in her mouth, her bruised lips still sucking 
the last drops of cum from my cock. I drop back exhausted as she rolls 
off me.

My face is covered with her sticky love juices drying masque-like, 
immobilizing the skin. My eyes itch from intrusions of alkaline juices 
smelling for all the world as if I were still between her legs sucking 
away.

I have only to run my tongue through my mustache to relive the tense 
arousal of the last half hour.

Candy is grinning widely at me, a drool of semen marring her pixie 
features from lips to chin. She reaches down and pulls draped slacks 
from her ankles then removes her sweat-socks.

"Let's go at it again", she says, helping me to remove the rest of my 
clothes, discarding them carelessly to the side; then taking my soft 
cock gain into her mouth, slowly rolling her tongue in a massage 
designed to cleanse it of cum and work it to hardness again.

At first, her tongue-work is just an irritant to my sensitive and sated 
cock; but Candy keeps up the tongue massage and adds a sucking rolling 
vacuum that soon has me feeling renewed desire and I feel myself 
growing behind her teeth again. After five or six minutes of her tender 
ministrations I am rock-hard and ready to go again, but Candy stops her 
work at this point and straddles me, lowering her pussy directly atop 
my cock.

Ever so slowly she allows me to enter her, controlling her down 
movements alternating with small up jabs to spread the lubrication and 
accommodate my throbbing dick. The warmth of her vagina is almost 
enough to send me off; but I control my impulses and concentrate on the 
ceiling.

When I'm buried to the hilt, Candy tucks her feet behind her and hands 
upon my chest starts a rhythmic up and down crescendo of slow, sliding, 
and sensuous fucks that hold me just at the borderline as I feel the 
texture inside her with my cock. Up... Down... Up... Down. My cock is 
wet with her juices and is frigid cold when she is up, only the head in 
the firebox. Every time she descends she sends shivers through me as 
cold dick and hot vagina co-mingle.

Her juices run through my forest and over my balls, cooling in the 
night air. The evaporation causes my sac to tighten and pull my balls 
in close; and the juices continue, flowing across the peritoneum and 
across my asshole and onto the slick plastic of the bean bag.

Her vagina is not so tight now; fully oiled. I feel a bead of cum work 
it’s way towards the tip, tingling and stinging a little as a prelude 
to what will soon happen.  My prostate cannot long hold back this 
pressure building.

I deposit this lone drop of cum on her cervix as I bump into it on one 
of her down strokes.

Hands on her hips, I guide her more forcibly onto my cock; deeper and 
faster pushing against her cervix until she stretches the length to 
give me a bottomless pit to drive into.

Candy picks up the increasing tempo her vaginal muscles twitching now 
and then to grasp my cock and momentarily stop its' flight.

Abruptly, Candy stops, vagina tightened around my almost jetting cock. 
My climax is stopped midstream!

I'm buried to the hilt between her hips trying to grind in and find 
release. I feel a mini-climax as I spasm lightly into her in empty 
throbs; feeling the pleasure of coming; but not letting loose my load 
and staying constantly hard.

"Feel good, Larry?" she asks all too knowingly. She has read me like a 
book and knows when to cut-off or slow down stimulation.

As I nod my head in agreement, she draws her knees, at my sides, closer 
together, raising her pussy a little off my pelvis. With one hand, she 
reaches behind her and grasps my sac, fondling my balls roughly.  Her 
other hand goes to the base of my cock and fingers pinch the urethra 
tightly closed.

This quickly dampens my climax but keeps me hard inside her.  Up and 
down her pussy goes.

Her vaginal muscles tighten clamp-like around my cock each time she 
withdraws, milking my penis. I come full-blown only to throb against 
her finger cutting off exit at the bottom of my cock.

Nowhere to go, it resides and we work it up again. I must have release, 
but each time I come, she cuts it off and continues the thrusting.     
My cock is painful; sore from rubbing in a tight pussy, squeezed at the 
base.

Again I cum and she clamps her fingers at the base but I cannot be 
denied. I feel a full-blown climax and feel the jetting and 
pulsation’s; but I also feel a sharp pain inside me and I realize that 
I have cum inside myself. I have shunted the semen up my urethra and 
into my bladder. Candy's pressure on my cock has kept it hard and 
thought I am sated I continue to thrust into her as I feel her build 
towards a massive climax.

Candy has abandoned all finesse now and slams her pussy hard and fast 
onto my pole in earnest desire. I slam upwards with each down stroke 
and her vagina clamps hard around my sore cock as she begins a rhythmic 
shudder and collapses atop me.

We lay there like this for some time, cuddling each other and kissing 
deeply, my half-limp cock inside her spread legs.

We roll over so that I am on top and tongues still entwined, I slow-
fuck her in a loving fashion designed to be felt with the romantic 
senses and prolonged. I am hard again but feel no immediacy to ram 
inside her; rather I feel like I'd like to prolong this all night.  
Candy responds by sensuously rolling her hips into mine.

My hands roam her body feeling the texture and goose-bumps of her skin 
in the night air. I lift my chest to cup her tits and massage them ever 
so slowly as her tongue digs deeper into my mouth. I taste her saliva 
and we share our juices. Our tongues fuck each others throats, dancing 
tip-to-tip.

Candy wraps her legs around my  torso, hooking ankles together.  In and 
out like a slow, hot knife into butter. My cock is battered and bruised 
but is still up to the renewed sensations of a slow fuck; the tension 
of coming there, but the ability to hold it back and ride the crest 
much as a surfer rides the crest of a large wave. I do not want to come 
crashing down just yet.

"Does it feel good, Candy?"

"Oh, God...yes!" she says. "I want to keep this up forever."

"Me too. I've felt like coming a hundred times. No one told me going 
slowly could be like this... Uh... Uh... Jesus! it feels so nice inside 
you! I want to come." I pant into her ear.

Just then, the phone rings. God, what an incessant distraction.  Candy 
is startled and contracts her vagina. I lose all control and begin to 
spasm into her, spurting hot cum as I bury my cock deep into her 
convulsing pussy. Candy scrapes her fingers across my back as she bucks 
into me taking all of my cock and more.

We lay silently, panting heavy and exhausted while the phone continues 
to ring in the background.

Finally, laughing together she reaches for the phone on the table 
beside us, our bodies still locked together. I listen to her trying to 
catch her breath and answer the phone at the same time.

"Hello"

"Oh, hi...No, I wasn't doing anything special. Just watching TV...     
"No. I had to run from the kitchen. I'm alright...

"I'd rather not, Lisa. I've got company...

"Come on. What's wrong?...

"Okay. You can come over...Ya. I'm sorry to hear that too. Come on over 
and we'll talk. Larry's here...

"Okay and I'll see you in awhile...Bye." and she replaced the handset.     
"I'm sorry, Larry. I do want to be alone with you. That was Lisa and 
she's got some problems she wants to talk about...I guess our fun is 
over for the night."

"Okay sweets. Let's get presentable and straighten up this place before 
she arrives. What time is it?"

"About four AM. Where's my panties?"

"Over there...beside the wine bottle." I give her a quick peck on the 
lips and start pulling on my clothes.

Lisa is a pert little girl; a sophomore at Denver. I'd seen her at 
school but paid scant attention other than fleeting appraisals of her 
sexy lines. Candy knew her well and they often were seen talking 
together.

We had turned on the TV on to support our contention of our activities 
and had just about covered all other tracks of our loving when the 
doorbell rang.

It was Lisa, all bundled up against the cold night. Candy let her in 
and I noticed that she wobbled at little unsteadily. Under that bulky 
coat she was clad in a stunning mini-dress that emphasized her shapely 
legs and thighs and cut low across the bodice  (giving ample evidence 
of her swelling cleavage) that this was not a girl, but a growing 
woman.

Candy navigated her to the couch and plopped her down on it.  Lisa 
landed with a bounce and settled back, legs separated. I could see 
hints of her panties from my vantage on the bean-bag on the floor in 
front of her. I absently rubbed my cock through my pants in sexual 
desire.

Lisa noticed me a moment later and said "Hi, Larry", as if I were part 
of the furniture.

She was preoccupied with a problem, so I said hello and leaned back to 
watch an insane movie about werewolves on channel 13.

Watching TV from the position I was in was difficult because of the 
angle, so I slowly edged my way over towards the sofa, resting my back 
against it, still sitting on the floor besides Lisa's legs. Candy came 
over and sat down next to me and I draped my arm over her shoulders.  
Lisa's legs vibrated a warmth I could feel against my arm and shoulder, 
and I sneaked glances at them.

After awhile, Candy rolled another joint, lit it, and passed it around. 
I took a heavy toke and turned around between Lisa's legs, one hand on 
a knee and offered her the joint. She took it and sucked greedily, then 
passed it back while I stared hungrily up her short dress.

We finished off two more joints and Candy turned the record player back 
on. The TV was still on and we where getting the giggles, providing 
dialogue to the antics of the silent screen. Lisa slid off the sofa 
into a sitting position beside me, in the process, accidentally hiking 
her already short skirt past her crotch.

I lit another joint and offered Candy the first drag but she was in 
blissville against my shoulder, so I turned to Lisa. While she was 
pulling on the joint and holding her breath, I traced my fingernails up 
and down the insides of her thighs. Ohhh, my cock was beginning to 
tingle again.

She looked at me impishly and slightly parted her thighs to give me 
some more room. Emboldened, I ran my palm up her thighs and cupped her 
panties crotch. I could feel the heat and dampness of her womanhood as 
I rubbed trying to slip a finger under the elastic and into her pussy. 
After a laid back moment, Lisa removed my hand to lower down her thigh, 
near the knees.

The shifting awoke Candy. "How long have I been asleep?" she asked.     
"Only a few minutes", I said. "Let's play a game or something."

"Okay", said Candy. "How about poker? I've got a deck of cards around 
here somewhere." and she goes off to find them, returning a moment 
later with a battered deck.

"I've seen you around school", says Lisa as we spread out in a circle 
on the carpet. "I didn't know you knew Candy."

"We've been seeing each other for a few months now."

"Yah, Larry and I are in the Folk Dancers together. That's where we 
met", says Candy. "He's real nice...sexy", she says with a 
conspiratorial wink at Lisa.

"You're not too bad, either" I retort back at Candy. "For that matter, 
you have good-looking girlfriends, Candy. I like Lisa!" I said, 
admiring Lisa's female form from the short distance separating us.

"Behave yourself, you chauvinistic pig. You've had enough for one 
night"

"Enough what, Candy. Lisa interrupted the best part."

Lisa is silent throughout this exchange but she is embarrassed and 
fidgeting beside us. I busy myself rolling a few more joints, lighting 
one and passing it to Lisa. Pretty soon we are all feeling good and 
giggling away, not really paying much attention to the poker game.     
I pour some more wine and pass it to Candy and Lisa snatching a 
lingering kiss off of Lisa's lips as my free hand runs up her thigh.     
"Let's have some fun. Okay?", I say to the thick air around us.

The girls are all for it and soon we are into a rip-roaring game of 
strip poker. Since I cannot keep my attention under the weed's 
influence and these sexy women, I am not doing too well at this game 
and am soon down to only my briefs left. The girls aren't doing too 
well either. Candy has her bra and panties left on and Lisa is down to 
her silken panties; her small firm titties jutting firmly into the 
smoke-filled room.

We are having fun though, giggling and pawing each other. I am hard and 
wanting some action. My dick is hard and tent-like under my briefs and 
I play with it through the sweaty cloth.

"Let's make the game more daring", volunteers Candy. "How about if the 
winner of each hand gets to tell the losers what to do and they have to 
do it. Okay?"

"Anything?" asks Lisa in mild shock though I don't know why because we 
all are pretty well brazen and sinful right now.

"Sure! Anything the winner wants the other two to do...just as long as 
it's not dangerous or sick. Okay Larry?"

"I agree. It'll make it more interesting and fun... We are having fun, 
aren't we?"

No one really answers this question so to get things started I pull my 
briefs off and toss them into the corner. My pole sticks ramrod 
straight up and I slowly jerk it up and down reveling in the tingly 
feeling. "Come on girls, off with the rest of your clothes and start 
out on even ground with me... Come on Lisa. Don't be embarrassed. Hell, 
you're half naked now and after all, you are among friends. What ever 
happens between us tonight is after all among friends. Let your 
inhibitions go and just enjoy your feelings. Be natural."

Lisa slowly peels her panties over her hips and down, finally tossing 
them aside as she tightly clamps her legs together in mild shyness. We 
begin the game.

The first hand dealt I received a pair of fours and discarded two for 
two more useless cards. Lisa won with a pair off nines and could barely 
contain herself in glee and relief.

"Come on Lisa. What do you want us to do."

"Well. I don't know...Anything, right?...Larry, kiss Candy first and 
then me. A real deep down and passionate kiss with your hands behind 
your back."

Now this was more like it. Not exactly what I had in mind, but a start. 
I move over to Candy.

"Come on lover. I'm waiting," says Candy as our lips meet and my tongue 
probes deep.

After an interminable amount of time Lisa slaps me on the rear end and 
says, "Uh uh, Larry. My turn now."

I scoot over beside Lisa and kiss her deeply, my arms embracing her. 
Lisa breaks and tells me to put my hands behind my back and I do so. 
The kiss is deep, our tongues fighting each other for domination.  All 
of a sudden, Lisa's hand is upon my cock, gripping it tightly and 
pumping up and down. Each time I attempt to bring my arms around front 
she firmly pushes them back behind my back.

I lean forward against her and she tumbles backward with me atop her 
naked form. Our lips are still mashed against each other and she loses 
her grip on my dick. God I need her.

With my legs, I force hers apart and wheedle my cock up against the 
opening of her pussy and with one savage thrust enter her. I start a 
gentle yet full thrusting into her love box.

Just as I feel the juices start to build up for eruption, Candy’s 
fingers grab my balls and twist painfully. "No you don't lover. You 
were just told to kiss her. Now out and back to your corner." Candy 
keeps the pressure on my sac until I pull all the way out and away. My 
cock is aching for love. All Lisa can do as she sits up is moan.

The next hand has me with a pair of queens, ace high. I discard the 
other two cards and come up with another queen and when we show our 
cards I'm the winner.

I chuckle to myself as I decide what punishment these two girls deserve 
for stopping me twice tonight. A devious and sexy plan evolves...     
"Since you two are close friends I want you to make love before me."     
"No. Come on Larry", say Candy. "You can't be serious!" she says in 
astonishment.

Lisa doesn't look to happy either though her head is hung low.

"I hear it happens all the time between close girlfriends; meeting at 
slumber parties to dive between each others legs and lick each other up 
a frenzy."

"You've done it before, haven't you Lisa?" I ask point blank.

She doesn't answer so I continue, "You girls agreed to do whatever the 
winner wanted and I want to watch the two of you do it. Please!" I look 
first with dejected eyes from Lisa to Candy acting like an innocent 
little boy in front of his momma.

 A few more pleases and more cajoling and Lisa starts to move towards 
Candy as I move over to kiss Candy to take her mind off what is to 
happen.

Lisa starts by lightly kissing her way along Candy's thighs; light 
tracery along the insides. I can feel Candy respond in my arms so I 
break loose and sit back to watch the two of them, idly playing with 
myself.

Candy is laying back on her elbows, legs straight out in front of her 
and parted with Lisa's head moving closer and closer to Candy's pussy. 
Her head is back, eyes closed and mouth open, her chest and titties 
rising in slow ragged heaves.

When Lisa's tongue finds her wet pussy and starts running around in 
wide circles around the inside of her pussy lips, Candy pulls her knees 
up and leans back more.

Lisa's rump is high into the air and all the more exciting, the patch 
of lightly browned and bristly pussy mounding softly out between her 
legs. I crawl on my knees behind her and kiss her closed pussy lips, 
running the tip of my tongue up and down the soft cleft.  She tastes 
good; not as aromatic as Candy-- milder.

Standing up behind with my hard cock horizontal in front of me I guide 
it into her love-box; slowly at first to loosen the oils and then more 
forcibly to get further into her hot furnace.

Candy groans under Lisa's tongue-lashing and Lisa presents more of 
herself to me. I watch in sexual fever as my cock glides in and out  of 
her-- the indentation made as I push in and the clinging lips holding 
my dick tight as I pull out for another warming session.

I go slow to enjoy this feeling of a tight pussy, never loosening up; 
almost virgin. When I think of her possible virginity I almost come 
while halfway out of her so I stop for a moment to compose myself and 
get under control; then start with fresh vigor.

Lisa's pussy sticks to my cock like glue, squeezing tight, even when I 
get my full length into her and am pounding up against her cervix.     
Candy is laid all the way back now, a leg hooked over Lisa's neck and 
her hands in Lisa's hair guiding her to her secret places and muttering 
urgings to her. Lisa is rapidly flicking her tongue back and forth over 
the tip of Candy's clit, trying to keep her position over Candy as my 
ramming rocks her body back and forth on her knees.

I squeeze Lisa's firm and ample buttocks cheeks together around my cock 
elongating the tunnel I have available to slide my cock in and out of 
and I pound the entire length of it, the cool skin of her ass soothing 
the raw and hot skin of my pole before it enters Lisa's firebox again.     
Just then Candy goes rigid under Lisa's ministrations, her pubic mound 
arched high in the air while she grabs great ragged breaths of air 
between sobs of passion. I ram in fast and deep and let loose inside of 
Lisa's love-box and as I feel the last of the jism squirt out the tip, 
pullout and scamper around the Candy's head and allow her to suck on my 
softening and sticky cock.

We roll over with Candy's lips atop my prong licking away and Lisa 
crawls over to join us. I help her by directing her head down between 
my legs where she swallows my balls one by one and gives them a 
delicious licking. I manage to contort myself enough to get my head 
between Lisa's thighs and get a taste of her sweet pussy commingled 
with my sticky cum still oozing out the cunt hole.

I've cum too many times already tonight and at most all I can manage is 
a semi-hardness but the girls do me the honor of slowly keeping up 
their sucking of the remainder of the night as I alternated between 
pussies eating one while finger-twiddling the other.

When I awoke the next morning we were still in this position with my 
soft cock partially in Lisa's pert lips and dried out cum crackling 
along its' shaft and hardened glue like along her cheeks. I didn't stir 
from the comfortable position I was in for the better part of the 
morning until a craving to take a piss forced me the extricate myself 
and get up.

By the time I returned, still naked and sticky, the girls had some 
semblance of a breakfast ready with some hot coffee which I solely 
needed. It was only after a long hot shower together that we got 
dressed and said our good-byes.

Candy and I dated and got together at her place a few more times on a 
steady basis but as school ended and I took summer employment in a 
logging camp on Vancouver Island, we drifted apart and she fell back in 
with the Scientologists. When I returned for my Senior year, she was 
long gone with a cold trail.

Lisa and I never mentioned that night again, though I saw her in school 
every day and even dated her a couple of times. Our dates were proper 
with just the right amount of groping and exploring but never like this 
night had ever happened. She didn't want to talk about it and I didn't 
bring it up in deference to her wishes.